Breathing Cas
by The Demon Ledger
Summary: This wouldn't be the last time, though it was the first. He called and called, and his answer was this: love was the strongest feeling, and could be felt by all. Warnings for sexual conduct later in the story. Short, three to five chapters. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So my dog died earlier this week. I've been really depressed and the review I got on The Fourth Quarter Quell definitely didn't help. Unfortunately there's no reason for me to really be upset and bitch about that, considering the fact that it was indeed a critism I needed to review. I've made a game plan on how to fix that, and you'll be seeing an update to that story within the next few days. I just need to sit and think on it, honestly.

This story is going to have a couple more chapters. It won't be too long, but once I finish the series (should happen in the next couple of weeks), I'll write a nice long Destiel fic. For now however, this smut shot should be enough to hold anyone over. If you don't like it, congrats, I'm not super fond of my writing in the first place. You're a very good team. I'm very happy to have the support I've had for the while that I've had it. If you don't watch Supernatural, watch it. NOW. It's really good, if you can get past the crazy grizzle of the show.

I'm actually pretty proud of this story, for the most part. I'll keep it up if you want me to.

~Bee~

**Breathing Cas**

**Chapter One**

Dean sat outside the small, dinky motel room in silence. The wonderful thing about motels was if he needed space, all he had to do was step outside. His throat was raw, from yelling and rigorous dry sobbing. He'd been praying for Cas for hours, screaming his name in the parking lot, scaring the neighbors, earning looks of anger from the manager. It was no use; no matter how much he paced around and around the block looking for Cas, he wouldn't show up. He needed Castiel, now more than ever; Dean begged silently – he was even starting to cry. It was unlike Dean to cry; he had actually surprised himself. Was this angel so worth it? All these tears and unreciprocated feelings? But for Dean, it was. He felt with Cas differently than he did with anyone else. Perhaps it was their supernatural bond that had held them together through all of these years they'd known each other, but Dean wasn't sure, and he was so tired of waiting on the sorry bastard. Cas felt like his soul mate. He wasn't sure what that meant, but the thought made his heart leap into his throat.

"Cas," said Dean hoarsely. "Cas, please. I need you. I need you right now and you're not here and I'm sorry I keep calling you down but please, Castiel. Please." He jumped as the door opened next to him, and Sam poked his head out. There was pity in his dark eyes, and Dean loathed him for it.

"Dean," he said, softly. "Come inside please. I really don't think Cas is coming this time." Dean shook his head, refusing to look at Sam. He hadn't really been able to since Sam got his soul back; he was too scared that one wrong look and he would send Sam back to the driveling, sorry mess he'd been a few days ago.

"He has to come." said Dean. He looked down at his feet, avoiding Sam's gaze as much as possible. "He promised me, Sammy. When he dragged me from that pit, he promised he'd always come." Sam tried his hardest to keep his laugh internal, and just looked at Dean, a smile spreading across his face. He felt sorry for his elder brother; it was so deeply obvious how Dean felt for Cas, (and vice versa) it surprised Sam that it had gone on for the almost three years that it had with no action from either. The way dean moved around Cas; how, when he appeared at random with words only for dean, his face lit up like a Christmas tree; how he tried so hard to hide the smile that always rushed to his lips at a fond memory of the awkward Angel; how, even after a few hours apart, Dean always hugged him like he hadn't seen him in years. It was so obvious to Sam, and yet they seemed so oblivious. Dean was frowning now, staring at Sam's shoes in confusion to his constant hovering presence.

"Whatever you say, Dean." Sam replied.

"Cas, you promised." He whispered after Sam shut the door. Dean wasn't mad, but he felt like his heart was beating 100 miles an hour. There was a flap of wings, and Dean looked up into miraculously blue eyes, only inches from his face.

"Hello, Dean." Said Castiel, eyes softening when he saw the tears still caught in the corners of Deans eyes. "Is something the matter?" Dean shook his head, smiling lightly, blinking away his tears. "I am sorry I couldn't have been here sooner." He paused for a moment, thinking obviously very hard. "There was traffic." Cas winked, and Dean laughed at the slightly off gesture.

"Where'd you learn a joke, Castiel?" asked Dean. Castiel shrugged, trying not to show his shiver at the sound of Dean pronouncing his full name. The way it rolled off his tongue made Castiel feel so… unnaturally happy. He wasn't sure what this sensation was called, but he liked it. He kneeled in front of Dean, sitting back on his heels.

"Is there any specific reason you called, Dean?" asked Castiel. He placed a hand lightly on Dean's face. Tingles radiated from the sit of Castiel's touch, and Dean's green eyes fluttered in shock. Cas cocked his head to the side, looking at Dean with curiosity. After a moment, Dean shook his head, shrugging away from Cas' touch.

"No. I just… needed some friendly company." Castiel looked confused, as if this was no ta good enough reason to be called away from Heaven.

"What is wrong, Dean?" asked Castiel. Dean looked at him, pursing his lips in an attempt to keep tears at bay. "I have never been summoned by anyone to simply keep him or her company, but especially not you. I am not nearly as good at it as people would assume." He moved slowly to Dean's side, looking down at the ground. He pulled a small, colored, hard paper package out of his inside pocket and nudged Dean in this side. "Would you like one?" he asked, when Dean looked over. Dean looked confused. "They're called cigarettes. I believe they're quite popular on this planet. I enjoy them immensely myself."

"I know what they are," said Dean. "but what I don't know is where did you get them? And… and when the hell did you start smoking?"

"Um." said Castiel softly. "I don't, really." He lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. "You can buy them at just about any convenience store or supermarket, Dean. I figured you of all people would know this."

"Okay… so what are you doing right now?" asked Dean pointedly, then taking a cigarette for himself. It had been a long time since he'd smoked; after he left Lisa he'd had a few, but nothing too serious.

"I'm relaxing." said Castiel. His head fell, chin resting on his chest. "I am tired, Dean. I also need a friend right now, but I don't think I am a very good one." Dean shook his head, chuckling. He turned to Cas, nudging him until he looked up.

"Cas, no matter what I say to you, you will always be my best friend on this whole apocalyptic, suicidal fuckin' planet. You've kept me alive more times than you should have. Cas… I… honestly I feel like a friggin' chick sayin' this, but I love you, man." Castile looked at Dean, surprised. He took a few minutes to process these words, before leaning in and kissing a very shocked Dean directly on the mouth. Dean sat in a stunned silence as Castiel pulled away, dragging his cigarette contently. He glanced at Dean, and the smile on his face was whipped away by a look of pure confusion.

"Was that inappropriate?" he asked gently, concern riddling his voice. Dean started to laugh; it was a beautiful sound to Castiel.

"Damn it." said Dean when he'd finally stopped. He turned to Castiel, pulling his face close rather violently and teasing him with the feeling of his lips. "You… fuck you, Castiel." Dean muttered angrily. He stood, throwing his cigarette down, laughing again. "Fuck you, and fuck this." Dean turned towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob, starting to turn it.

"Wait, Dean." said Castiel, grabbing Dean's pant leg in desperation,

Dean yanked away, scowling. "Go fight your fucking war, Cas. I don't want this right now. I… can't even think about this." Turning the doorknob, Dean threw open the door, and walked inside, slamming it behind him. He heard the soft flap of wings, and knew Castiel was gone.

* * *

Dean hadn't told Sam what happened that night with Castiel. He'd only been able to think about that since it had happened, however. His mind ran circles around Castiel kissing him, making more of what the Angel did than what was necessary. The feeling of Cas' lips on his hadn't been washed away by the numerous cold showers, and he'd been distracted during this most recent hunt. He couldn't even remember what they were hunting, some Celtic God gone rogue. He'd taken to driving around late at night to "think over the case", but really the thought of nothing but Castiel's soft lips on his. The Angel hadn't shown since the incident; was he embarrassed? Or perhaps just giving Dean the naturally needed amount of space he'd practically demanded. Dean laughed at each idea – there was no way that Castiel understood either of those concepts, especially the idea of space. The Angel was so oblivious… so fucking stupid…

Dean shook his head, gunning the engine and speeding down the dark, straight North Dakotan highway. He surveyed the dark grounds – not a car in sight, and the stars were so bright it was like driving on a cloudy day. There were so many out in this wilderness, Dean found it almost enlightening. He pulled over, dipping down into the grassy ditch next to him, putting his baby in park and stepped out, turning his face towards the Heavens.

"Castiel, I pray for you to get your ass down here so we can talk," he said, a grin curling across his face. It was the first time he'd smiled in days. The flap of wings signaled Castiel's arrival. Dean turned towards the sound, seeing a disheveled and desperate looking angel.

"Cas," said Dean, looking him up and down, walking quickly towards him. Cas was visibly shaking. "Are you okay?" Cas' eyes were wide with fear or sadness; he looked as if he hadn't stopped moving for darys. He shook his head slowly, eyes not moving off Dean's face, as if he were afraid he would pop out of existence as Castiel so often did.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He said, eyes filling with unexpected tears and throat suddenly thick with emotion. "I also believe I am leaking." Dean reached a hand out, gently caressing Castiel's face. He wiped away the tears that fell from his eyes with one fluid motion of his thumb and smiled softly.

"You dope, you're not leaking. You're crying." replied Dean with a gentle tone. Castiel nodded in reply, stepping slightly closer to Dean. He moved to take his hand back, but Castiel held it there, feeling pleased with the pressure and warmth of his best friend.

"I have never felt like this before, Dean." Said the angel softly. Dean looked at him, confused. "Dean Winchester… I…" Castiel trailed off, looking at the stars, freeing Dean's hand, which fell limply to his side. "I believe I am in loe with you. I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, so we very obviously have a strong bond. But it's… it's more than that. There's a physical aspect to it I am not used to. Never in all my centuries of being… me… did I think I would tell a weak mortal I love them.

"But you are so much more than that. You are strong and brave and forgiving. You give everything to your brother and your family and keep nothing ofr you rself. And I am so sorry for all that I have done, both to you and to Sam. But that is nothing compared to how sorry I am for not telling you how I felt sooner, before the civil war, before the apocolypse, so maybe you could reciprocate and… I am just sorry.

"If… if it would not be too upsetting for you this time, I'd like to kiss you now, please." Castiel finished in a hurry, looking down at his feet. His face was red with embarrassment. Dean used one figner to lift Castiel's chin, looking at the beautiful Angel with kindness and softness. He smiled and nodded his approval; Castiel lunged forward, pressing his lips against Dean's, winding his arms tightly around his neck, feeling whole for the first time in centuries.

The world reeled when Dean kissed back. A thousand human songs filled Castiel's head, and Dean was the one who gripped him tight this time: One hand pressed hard against the small of Castiel's back, the other wound itself gently into his soft hair. Lips parted, breath was shared, tongues met in anguish and incredulity. When they stepped away, Castiel was smiling softly and breathing hard. He had never felt quite this strongly about anything – Heavenly or otherwise. There was a war to fight back home, that was true – but could it wait for Castiel to feel as though he'd had enough? Until Castiel was sure he'd feel whole like this forever?

"I have to go, Dean." Said Castiel, face breaking into lines of heartache. Dean knew it wouldn't last, but he also knew this wouldn't be the final touch, the final kiss. There would be more. He would call again. He nodded to allow Castiel passage, a light frown touching his features. Castiel leaned forward, kissing him once more, drawing out his departure. There was a flap of wings, and he was gone.

**A/N: **So, again, this isn't my best work. But I'm proud of it. It's long, and exciting, and brings me to the edge of my seat when I read it. And I'm the one who wrote it.

If you enjoy it and would like to hear more about this certain adventure with Dean and the Angel Castiel, please follow/favorite/review so that I will know to write more.

Love you all. ~Bee~


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I actually really like this story. It was a little harder to find inspiration today, so forgive me if this chapter drags at all. I think Destiel is my OTP of all the OTP's. (Which I will list on my profile if you have a specific fic request.) Continuing on, this is a semi-smut chapter. I've had stories removed before because of my (AMAZING) smut writing, so I'm being cautious with this one. If you think there should be more fluff, more smut, more anyyyything, please leave a review telling me what you did o didn't like. I really appreciate it, even if they make me kinda sad if someone doesn't like something I love you guys so much, thank you for your overwhelming support on this story.

Also, side note, I have to fix a few things on The Fourth Quarter Quell, so if you're waiting for that to update, please don't wait anymore. There's a lot to do on that one, and when I update it, you will know because it will be a big-ass update.

Lots of swearing: don't say I didn't warn you.

TEE HEE ALSO TALK ABOUT DEANS PENIS. ~Bee~

**Chapter Two**

Dean awoke, startled into consciousness by the feeling of a body sitting close to him. Rest hadn't come easily – the feeling of holding Castiel close to him the day previous had still haunted him. He wanted that feeling back. Dean turned towards the sensation of warmth, confused. It must've been early morning, because it was still dark outside and Sam lay snoring comfortably in his bed. There wasn't anyone – or anything – in Dean's proximity. He was riddled by the uncomfortable feeling that something was watching him. He looked around the motel room, searching; still a whole lotta nothing. '_Just a dream.' _Dean thought to himself. '_You want Castiel back so bad you're imagining him.' _Dean rolled over, falling back into uneasy sleep, plagued by dreams of Castiel.

Sounds of Sam moving in and out of the room, and an uncomfortably tight feeling in his jeans is what he awoke to the next morning. '_Can't let Sam see this.' _Dean chuckled. He shifted in bed, trying to move his erection to a less noticeable spot until he could get into the shower.

"Morning," said Sam quietly, not looking at Dean as he packed gear into two duffle bags. Dean nodded towards him in reply, standing and stretching lazily, being careful not to pull his jeans too tight over his hips. He walked quickly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him louder than intended. '_Shit Cas, the things you do to me.' _Dean thought as he looked at a very solid hard on. He wrapped his fingers around it, moaning as softly as he could. '_Fuck'. _Dean turned on the shower, water pounding down, and cold as it could possibly be. He stepped in, gasping lightly.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. His gasps came in fogs, and he turned, washing his face, scrubbing his body and hair clean of whatever he'd dreamed of the night before. By the time he'd stepped out, his erection had gone to a much more manageable, slightly flaccid state. He stepped towards the toilet, leaning over the bowl to pee; Dean didn't dare touch what he knew was a very viable candidate for a tough day. Sam was sitting at his laptop, looking up lore on Purgatory. Dean ran a hand though his still damp hair, leaning against Sam's chair.

"So…" said Dean.

"So you gonna tell me why you were moaning in your sleep at four in the morning?" said Sam quietly, fingers tapping the keys lightly. "Cause… I definitely had to leave. It was starting to become disturbing."

"I… uh…" Dean stuttered, face turning red. "What does this have to do with Stopping Cas and Crowley from opening Purgatory?" Dean continued impatiently. Sam looked at Dean, incredulity in his eyes.

"Um… nothing. I can't find anything about Purgatory, at all, let alone how to stop it from opening. All it says here is that this is where, according to legend, the souls of non-human, non-angel, non-demon… basically this is where monsters go when they die. It could be filled with any number of things." Sam muttered. He scrolled down the page quietly, scanning it for information. "But it doesn't say what's in it. Or how to open it. No wonder Cas needs to know. Free souls – he could be terribly powerful. And when I say terribly, I mean terribly. All those souls, they would do truly terrible things to him. It would be like having schizophrenia with a city of voices." Sam shook his head, looking confused. "I just don't understand why Cas would want that."

Dean shrugged, looking down at his feet. "Look, you… stay here. I need to clear my head. I had a really weird fucking night." Sam nodded, still not looking at him. Dean patted Sammy's back, nodding. He walked out to the car; his heart was racing. Castiel was the person he was meant for. Had been since the start of time. Dean wasn't sure what it meant, however. Being so drawn to someone wasn't exactly his style. Lisa was the only one he ever saw himself settling down with, and he knew how that turned out. He set his head on top of the car for a moment, closing his eyes and thinking. If Castiel was really meant for him, if they were truly connected by this unbreakable bond… How would it feel when Dean died? Or, an even scarier thought, how would it feel for Dean when Castiel died? Dean thought quietly of all the Angels that pursued Castiel, who wanted him dead, gone: the Angels who wanted to rip out Castiel's grace and let him fall.

Dean shook his head, opening the door to his Impala. There was no point dwelling on a situation that could be remedied by never letting it happen. Dean drove out of the parking lot and towards the highway. There were a few people, but not many – most of them drove on the overly crowded freeways that the boys tended to try to avoid. Dean drove and drove, finding patches of beautiful scenery, thinking only of Cas. He pulled over, resting his head against the steering wheel.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean said, after a few hours. "If you're not too busy, would you mind joining me for a little while?" He waited, holding his breath, until he heard that soft flap of wings that meant Castiel was there.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said, looking out the window. Nervously, he glanced around at the deserted highway. "Where are we?" Dean shrugged, face blank. He put the car in park, killing the engine, and turned to Castiel. Dean took in his sharp nose and rough features. He wasn't elegant by any means, but Dean was still struck by his beauty. Castiel moved towards him, pressing his forehead against Deans, eyes closed in surrender. He felt Dean's soft breath against his face, a whispering breeze he couldn't get enough of.

When they kissed, this time was different from the previous two. It was filled with energy and passion. It was as if the two previous had been practice – trial runs 0 for this one kiss. Dean stripped his coat; desperately keeping his lips glued to Castiel's, who had his hands placed delicately on either side of his face. They clutched desperately to each other, moving across the car into the wide backseat. Dean looked at Castiel, brushing hair off his forehead. They laid there, gasping for air. Castiel removed his coat, pulling his tie of and unbuttoning his shirt. Dean sat up, straddling Castiel – he was very glad his car had tinted windows – and removed his shirt. Castiel gasped at the sight of him; he reached up, trailing his fingers along the scant hair, the rippling muscles. Dean's eyes closed, feeling Castiel's fingers moving, hands clutching. He pulled Castiel's shirt off over his head, dipping down to kiss his softly toned chest.

"Cas…" whispered Dean, moving slowly up into the crook of the Angel's neck. Castiel nodded slowly and clumsily in acknowledgement. "I love you." Castiel looked at him, pushing Dean's head up to stare right in his bright green eyes. He placed on hand over dean's left shoulder, where his handprint was still burned into his flesh; the other hand wrapped itself around the back of Dean's neck. He pulled Dean towards him, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, and nose, and lips. He pushed him up, kissing down the column of Dean's neck to his collarbones, the flat plain of his chest. He looked back up at Dean, who had been gasping softly.

"Is that okay?" asked Castiel in his innocent way. Dean clutched harder at the Angel – he took this as a signal of affirmation – and started to clumsily undo his belt, pulling on Dean's pants in desperation. Dean removed his shoes, kicking off his pants, leaning back against the window to watch Castiel remove his clothes. He felt pressure building in his cock: Watching Castiel take off the clothes he wore every day was the sexiest thing Dean had ever seen. Castiel moved forward, laying his body between Dean's legs, wrapping his long, slender fingers around Dean's erection. Dean moaned loudly, feeling passion, as he'd never felt before. Castiel worked on Dean like an expert, mouthing his neck, wrapping his lips around Dean's cock. They moved in exquisite fashion; together they were unified in unstoppable beauty.

Breathing was the only sound that filled the car; the sun was beginning to set, and Castiel had his head gently resting against Dean's chest. If he could sleep, he imagined this would be the most comfortable position to do it in. His legs were intertwined with Dean's; he wasn't sure where he began and Dean ended. They breathed together: Dean's eyes were closed, and Castiel used the opportunity to take him in – the nose that had obviously been broken so many times, his scarred brows and lower lip. But what struck Castiel about Dean was how perfectly symmetrical his face would have been without scars. His eyebrows were the same shape and length on each side, his lips had no flaws; his nose, though slightly crooked, was perfectly shaped to fit his face. His eyes were the same size and shape, and minus a scar that ran under his left eye, Dean's face was absolutely perfect. He'd never seen such a work of art before. Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, humming softly.

"What is that sound you're making with your throat, Dean?" asked Castiel, closing his eyes. He felt Dean's chest rise and fall with each breath and wished desperately that he could sleep. But alas, he could not. Dean chuckled at his question, looking down at the beautiful man.

"I'm humming. It's when you close your mouth and sing without words," replied Dean, smiling.

"What is the song?" Castiel questioned, trailing his fingers across Dean's chest, causing goose bumps to rise on his pale skin.

"Um…" said Dean. He turned red, looking beyond Castiel and out the window. He knew that Castiel wouldn't know the song, or bring it up to Sam the next time the three of them were in a room together, but he was still embarrassed. Castiel looked at Dean, resting his chin upon his chest. His eyebrows raised when Dean looked down at him. "It's called… 'First Day of My Life'. It's by bright eyes." Castiel looked confused. "It's a band, Cas."

"Will you sing the song for me, with words this time?" asked Castiel, looking hopeful. Dean snorted, gazing down at him; he looked back expectantly.

"Uh, sure, Cas." Replied Dean. Cas settled his head back into the crook of Dean's chest, sighing happily, waiting for him to start singing.

"_This is the first day of my life."_

Dean cleared his throat nervously, blinking and watching the sun set, deep red lines pushing out over the trees.

"_Swear I was born right in the doorway._

_I went out in the rain_

_Suddenly everything changed_

_They're spreading_

_Blankets on the beach."_

Castiel placed gently kisses on Dean's chest, tears falling from his eyes for no particular reason. Happiness flooded the Angel, and he laughed gently. Dean continued running his fingers through Castiel's hair, smiling at the sound of Cas' laughter.

"_Yours is the first face that I saw_

_I think I was blind before I met you_

_I don't know where I am_

_I don't know where I've been _

_But I _

_Know where I want to go_

_And so I thought I'd let you know_

_These things take forever, _

_I especially am slow_

_But I realized that I need you_

_And I wondered if I could come home_

_Ohhh_

_Oh." _

**A/N: disclaimer, all lyrics in this story belong to the producers, writers, and members of Bright Eyes. The song First Day Of My Life is not in any way shape or form mine, nor do I take credit for the writing or distribution of the song in any way. I do not plan to make money off this story; it's characters or the song. All rights to those who deserve them. **Thanks for reading guys: Don't forget to follow/favorite/review. It's very helpful. 3


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Wow! I just looked at the stats and this story already has about 132 hits! That's one of the most my stories has ever gotten. I'm ridiculously thankful to all of you and of course to supernatural. Here's chapter three, I hope you enjoy.

Unfortunately, my smut has to get cut down a lot for posting on fanfiction. If you want to read this chapter in full, please check out my WattPad, where the full sex scene will be shown. I'll post the link on my profile.

**Please follow/favorite/review if you haven't already. That's the most important part. I love you guys **~Bee~

**Chapter Three**

Dean pulled into the parking lot, parking in front of his motel room. He checked himself one last time in the pull down mirror over the dash, and nodded in approval. He was good at this: hiding. It made him a little sad, how excellent he'd always been at hiding the most fearful parts of himself. He pulled down his shirt collar, checking his neck in the dim light from the overhead lamps. A huge bruise the shape of a bite mark, dark and forbidding, sauntered across his shoulder. He touched it gently, wincing in pain. _'Damn it, Cas.' _ Dean thought gently to himself, sighing. He pulled his shirt back up, checking his neck again for hickies, and found a dark one near his collarbone. A chuckle reverberated though his chest, and he closed his overhead mirror, stepping lightly out of the car and slamming shut the door. He locked it, pocketing the keys.

"Where the hell have you been?" yelled Sam, marching forward and slamming the door shut behind Dean. His brow was furrowed in concern, and he crossed his arms over his chest, breathing heavily through his mouth. Dean shook his head, laughing.

"Went out for a drink, drove around." replied Dean, looking across the room. Sam laughed, stepping closer, pulling down Dean's collar, and revealing the rest of his hickey; Dean hadn't covered it well enough: the shirt was stretched out anyways.

"Yeah?" he asked, jabbing at it with a free finger. "The fuck is this then, Dean?" he looked at him pointedly, and Dean moved away, shrugging. He moved towards the bed, setting down his bag. Sam looked at him, incredulous. "What does that even mean?" Dean shrugged again, looking away. His ears were red, he was hot with anger; Dean was looking for a way out of this conversation: he couldn't breathe, he couldn't admit where he had been, but he couldn't lie to Sammy. He shrugged again and again, shaking his head. "Dean, what the hell is going on with you, man?" He looked for an escape, looking around the room, at the walls dripping with information about their case. He shook his head more, moving away from Sam.

"I can't… tell you," said Dean, hand clutching a chair for support. He felt like he was drowning, He wanted so badly to admit to Sam what was going on, how he felt, what was going on in his mind. "I just can't Sammy. But it's nothing. Please don't worry about me." Sam shook his head, looking at him. Dean glanced at him, pleading with his eyes. Sam stared, confusion plastered across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, frowning.

"Dean, you can tell me anything. Is this…? Dean are you-" Dean slammed his fists into the chair, cursing.

"Don't, Sam. Seriously." he said. "Just please, fucking stop." Sam shook his head, confused.

"Please, Dean. Just talk to me."

"Sammy," he exploded with rage, hands slamming the chair again. He couldn't hold it in any longer, and all the promises about not telling Sam he'd made to Cas flew right out the window when he looked into his brothers concern filled face. "I slept with Cas today." Sam's eyes opened wide, stepping back.

"You did what?" asked Sam, softly. "You… what?"

Dean nodded, laughing quietly to himself before bursting into tears. Sam was taken aback, watching as Dean sank into the chair, body wracked with sobs. Sam melted for his brother, sinking into the chair beside him, watching Dean cry. He didn't understand the cause of his tears, really, but knew there was always a good reason, because… Dean didn't cry. He moved to look at Sam, a fresh wave of sobs beating a t him. Same clutched his hand, worry touching his brows.

"Dean, it's okay. You know I don't care," said Sam; it was the truth. Sam had known for a while that Dean had feelings for the Angel. Castiel was Dean's Angel after all. Dean shook his head farter a moment, laughing through his tears.

"Oh Sammy," started Dean, sniffing and collecting himself enough to continue. "It's not that," he muttered. He looked at Sam, reaching out to calm the worry lines on his forehead. "We're gonna lose that son of a bitch. Sam, he's –"

"Your soul mate – trust me I know." Dean's eyes were touched with eh same confusion that had swarmed Sam only moments ago. "The way you look at Cas, Dean," Sam started softly, sighing and pulling Dean's hand closer, "it's the way I looked at Jess, every day we were together." Dean nodded, laughing, pulling his hand away to paw reluctantly at his face. The crying had stopped, replaced only by a deep look of fear. "We won't lose him, Dean. I won't let that happen to you," promised Sam, voice touched with emotion. He rose, crossing to his computer bag, turning in time to hear the flap of wings and see Castiel pop into existence behind Dean.

"Hello, Dean." said Castiel, standing aloofly away from Dean. Castiel was so transparent: it was obvious he wanted to reach forward and grip Dean. The way his eyes touched his face when Dean turned to look at him made Sam smile softly. He walked across the room, setting down his computer and looking at Cas. "Sam." Castiel nodded in his general direction. "I am here to apologize for what I did." Sam shook his head, smiling.

"No need, Cas." said Sam, touching the Angel's arm in acceptance. "You did what you had to do." Castiel nodded, annoyance pushing his brow down.

"You do not understand, obviously, Sam," said Castiel, moving forward. He took the chair Sam had only just vacated, ignoring him completely. "Dean." Dean looked up, eyes rimmed with red from crying. He was angry, Sam could tell; Castiel was right, he didn't understand what was going on, at all.

"Dean, I am here to apologize to you," continued Castiel, moving to clutch Dean's hand as Sam had. "You… mean more to me than a lot of people know. We have an indisputable bond that can't be measured or touched. And I have… ruined that by doing what I am doing. But I cannot stop until Raphael is finished. I have to keep the plan in motion. That means I am hurting you, I can tell. But you know… how I feel." Dean nodded, not looking at Cas. There was a tense air between them; Sam wanted to lean forward and smack them both across the heads, tell them to get over themselves, stop acting like teenagers, stop hiding from their parents in closets and cars. Castiel leaned forward, looking at Dean's face, imploring him without words to look back. His deep blue eyes searched for forgiveness he knew he wouldn't receive. He nodded, accepting it and standing.

"I must get back," said Castiel reluctantly. "I must go and do what needs to be done." Sam stepped forward, grabbing Cas' arm in impatience.

"No." he said. "You're not leaving until my brother looks at you. You won't make it… if he doesn't accept this." Dean shook his head, laughing loudly once.

"You think I'm going to accept that he wants to blow his brains out with Purgatory? You think I'm going to simply stand by and watch as… as Cas swallows up hundreds of souls, souls you told me nothing, no one could handle? Sammy, if you think that, you must be delusional; I won't. And I'm going to do everything in my power to stop him." Dean looked up, eyes narrowed in anger. "Because damn it, Cas, it kills me to watch you do this. I love you, damn it, I fucking love you." Dean stood, over turning the table, Sam's laptop crashing to the floor. He strode towards the Angel, gripping his face tightly with both hands. Castiel struggled for a moment to be released, and Dean leaned in, kissing him hard on the mouth. Sam turned away, releasing Castiel's arm and pacing to the door, shutting it softly behind him as he exited. His smile was huge when he knew he was no longer in sight of the boys. He shifted, turning towards the street, walking away from the room.

Inside, Castiel had started to kiss Dean back. His lips worked on Dean's, hands moving to his face, his hair, and his neck. Dean pulled him gently towards him, grinding his hips into Cas'. His hands moved to Castiel's ass, pushing him into his body, fitting their hips together. Cas moved, trailing his lips down Dean's jaw, to his neck where he bit and nipped gently. Dean moaned, feeling his cock straining against his pants, hot and painful. Clothes were removed, and for the second time that day, Dean felt something inside him that he never had before. But it was more than that; it was the way Cas moved his hands up Dean's sides that made him feel loved like never before. It was less about the sex, and more about the sensation of really feeling Castiel beside him. They kissed each other gently, moving towards the bed, Dean's pants unbuttoned and fly down, Castiel stripped to the skin.

"Take me, Dean." Castiel whispered, lying beneath him on the creaking hotel bed. "Make me understand why I can't do this to myself." But Cas' resolve was resolute: there was no making him understand anything. The stubborn bastard would do what he wanted; Dean knew that now. He simply nodded and attacked Cas' skin with his lips, feeling him move, squirm, press into Dean. Begging moans and whimpers resonated from his chapped lips. Dean sighed, feeling an unearthly amount of power over this simply beautiful man. How had Dean not known before this, before all this happened, that he wanted him so badly? How did it get this far before Dean really realized what was surging through his bones every time Castiel said his name? He pressed into Cas', moving down his stomach, trailing kisses to the hard v-line of his hips. Hooking his lips around Castiel's cock, he started.

After a moment, Dean moved away, eyes watching Cas' body squirm and writhe in passionate agony. He smiled a small, soft smile, leaning down to kiss his lips again tenderly. A song hummed through his head, reminding him of the car, singing to Cas as his head lay on his chest. He kicked his pants off, pulling Cas up onto his arms, feeling the way he breathed, the heat of him. Castiel's arms locked around Dean's neck, and he moaned softly as Dean ground against him. There was nothing stopping him now, nothing but Dean, nothing but the quiet feeling of him pressed against Cas. He sighed gently, mouthing Dean's neck and softly kissing the place where he'd bit Dean earlier, hearing him hiss when his lips made contact. There was a moment of anticipation before Dean entered him, and then they were there, together and full of life.

The moment ended too quickly, Cas panting, covered in a sheen of Dean and his own sweat, mixed with cum which sat hotly on his stomach. He looked at Dean, who lay beside him on the bed, a similar state of being, before rising to get a towel from the bathroom. He assumed that was the appropriate thing to do: towel them off and lay next to him for another moment. He looked in the mirror: his pupils were dilated with ecstasy, his hands shook and there were hickies trailing from his neck to the place where his hips met his thighs. He laughed softly, touching them. They didn't hurt as people said they did; in fact, they were a wonderful reminder of his abandonment, of his straying from the beaten path of loyalty. A wonderful, and heart breaking reminder of what he had to do to beat down Raphael. He didn't want to: didn't want to hurt Dean the way he knew he was going to. But a part of him said he absolutely had to. The other part screamed in protest, two sides of him clashing and clawing, fighting like rabid animals. The protest was to stay here, lay by Dean until the war was over, until his grace was pulled from him, until he was gutted like the animal he knew he was. But he couldn't possibly do that. That would hurt Dean worst of all.

"Dean," said Castiel, walking from the bathroom. Dean's eyes were closed, breathing relaxed. He smiled in acknowledgement, opening them to look at Cas. He was struck for a moment by the deep green of them, the singularly good light they held within them. For a moment, he almost wished he had the God-seeing amulet, because the thought that first crossed his mind was that he must be in the presence of a God for someone to be so beautifully perfect. They he remembered that Dean was merely a man. A new thought crossed his mind, cancelling out the past ones of abandoning Dean in his most desperate time of need. "May I stay here… with you, just for tonight?" Dean shifted a bit; smile dropped from his face, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Castiel looked at his feet, embarrassed by his stupid question, and Dean cleared his throat. Their eyes met again; each time they did. Castiel's heart was swept out of his chest.

"Just tonight?" asked Dean, eyes closing again. He was tired, Castiel could tell. "Yeah. That sound's fine." Castiel practically jumped for joy, but managed to keep his composure long enough to towel them both off. Dean laughed, shaking his head, and threw Cas over his shoulder, dragging him into the shower and bathing him in water and kisses. They made love again, and again. Sam never came back or called, but Dean wasn't worried. There was an unspoken promise between them, and when Dean awoke in the morning, he could see Sam's long legs poking out of the back window of the Impala. He laughed, feeling the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders for just a moment. Everything was okay, if only for right now. Breathing Cas was good.

**A/N: **Hey guys! Looks like that's going to be the end of the line for this story. Like I said, this story is about two thousand words longer with the full 'adult' scenes, so check it out on wattpad when I publish it there. I also signed up for a beta account at Achieve of Our Own, where you should check out some really awesome stories there. Y'all have been perfect. Please keep checking in on me, I recently had another idea for a story about Dean and Cas, but it'll be a beautiful AU. Love you all SO much 3 thanks for sticking around. ~Bee~


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